


Silence

by ConfessionForAnotherTime



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/pseuds/ConfessionForAnotherTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Locus calls control following the aftermath at radio jammer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

The two mercenaries popped up on the far side of Chorus, away from the spaces that had hundreds of people waiting to kill them. A message to control was their first priority, everything else deemed unnecessary until that portion of their mission was done. Locus shoved his way past Felix and the few soldiers that had made it back from Armonia to join them, setting up a secure communication link to the person with all of the secrets and orders.

“Mission was a failure.” Locus lowered his visor as he spoke the words he had hoped never to say. Following orders and protocol should have guaranteed them enough of a victory to be able wipe out what resistance was left on Chorus in order to make their end of the deal secure, but plans had gone awry.

“That is disappointing, Locus. I expected better of you. What is the status of the Reds and Blues?” the feminine voice asked, monotone.

“Alive. For now.”

“Back off of previous plan. Wait to see how many of your operatives return. Regroup. We will contact you later of a new plan.”

“Understood.” The communication closed and Locus sighed, setting his rifle down on the console. Felix wandered into the room, still droning on about a previous conversation that exaggerated his dismay at not being able to rid the world of Chorus of the vermin that were the simulation troopers. He muttered to himself about how the Reds and Blues could be gone by now if they had acted quicker.

“They would also be dead if you bothered to attack when I gave you the order to.” Locus looked over his shoulder to watch the body language of the other man.

“What did control say?” Felix asked without looking up, the pad of his thumb scraping away the blood still crusted on the blade of his knife.

“Control.” Locus considered his words carefully, pausing. “Doesn’t have any new orders for us. At least not for now. They advised we lay low considering the communications they have heard between the Federal Army and the New Republic.”

“What good is that going to do? It’s just going to give the idiots time to get back to the armies who have thought they were dead to launch a counterattack against us. If anything, laying low should be the last thing we’re going.” Felix had begun to pace, gesturing with his knife as Locus stared into the communications console. “It also gives them time to heal up because while I got that girlie freelancer of theirs in the leg a few weeks ago; Tucker is going to be feeling my knife in his belly for a few weeks.”

“They have our medic.” Locus shoved his pistol to the side of the console, getting up to face Felix. “I saw her with the Reds and Blues. Turns out she didn’t die when they got away.”

“Why the fuck does that even matter?” Felix stared Locus down when the other man stopped in front of him, pushing past him to continue his pacing. Felix missed the struggle in Locus’ resolve to not shove him back.

“It matters because it means they will have someone who can heal them. For all the details you pay attention to, you’re oblivious to most of what happens around you.” Locus grabbed his rifle, turning to walk away to the other end of the base in hopes of forming a plan before the next move.

“Where the fuck are you going? We don’t have anywhere to be. Control told us to lay low. Besides, I don’t think we have any reason to put together a plan when we haven’t listened in on the comm chatter. You know those losers will need to spend a few weeks--”

“Felix.” The grit of Locus’ teeth as the word smashed itself through, a low growl in his throat.

“Yeah?”

“Stop. Talking.”

“Not like you have a whole lot to say in the first place. Use all that up when you were trying to sway Wash to the dark sid--” As soon as the words left Felix’s mouth, he found the butt of Locus’ rifle impacting with the side of his head. He reeled from the first blow, stumbling as it knocked him to the ground next to the console. He put his hands up to brace for the impact of the second and third before Locus stopped, inhaling sharply as Locus’ foot held him in place by stepping squarely in the middle of his chest plate.

“I said. Stop. Talking.” Locus ground out again, stepping off of Felix’s chest to deliver a swift kick to his ribs. “Now, I’m going to go formulate a plan for when we have what’s left of Chorus gunning for our heads. I suggest you do the same.”

“The fuck did Wash do to you?” Felix pulled himself to his feet, his stance wobbling as he gripped his side. “You’re acting like someone actually hurt you. Did the washed up freelancer get the jump on you and actually scuff your armor?” Felix ran the fingers of his free hand mockingly down the side of Locus’ helmet, caressing it. Locus caught the hand, squeezing his hand into itself as Felix yelped out a cry. His grip tightened and both men heard boned pop, earning another cry from Felix. Locus’ other hand pushed Felix back by his neck, squeezing enough to signal to the other mercenary.

“If you don’t stop talking,” he growled, emphasizing each syllable, “I’m going to make you stop talking.” His grip tightened around Felix’s throat as his thumb pushing into his trachea. Felix clawed at Locus’ arms, choking out a cry that begged him to stop. Locus released him a few seconds later, leaving Felix to cough and sputter against the wall as he stumbled back. Felix gripped at the wall, closing his eyes tight as he saw Locus’ fist coming at his visor, leaving a sickening crack as he fell to the floor from the blow.

“Whatever,” Felix coughed out after crawling up onto his hands and knees, “whatever he fucking said to you, you would think he was trying to make you believe you’re human.”

Locus snatched the pistol from the console, leveling it at Felix’s crack visor.

“There are enough bullets left to make you think I’m not.”

 

 


End file.
